


Someone to Bruise

by sister_wolf



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Open Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-01
Updated: 2006-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-12 05:37:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sister_wolf/pseuds/sister_wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People might look at the two of them and assume that Roy is the irresponsible one, but <em>he</em> isn't the one who leaves.  Dick, on the other hand, is starting to make a habit of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone to Bruise

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Blythe for the JBBS 2005 Secret Santa.

The apartment feels too quiet without Lian's voice. She's spending the weekend with Ollie, Connor, and Mia, and while part of Roy is grateful for the break, a much larger part of him misses her already. He's at loose ends tonight, nothing to do except stare at his navel or maybe drink himself into a coma. He's leaning towards the coma option, at the moment.

Grace dropped by earlier to give him an odd-looking bottle that she swore was "real Rotarium spiced nectar, guaranteed to make you numb from the neck up in three shots or less." She'd said she was heading off to Chaney's with Anissa, to see if enough booze could take the starch out of the college girl's underpants.

"You sure you don't want to keep the bottle, then?" he'd asked. "Since you've been _trying_ to get into Anissa's underpants for several months with no success... you might need the help."

"Already covered." She smirked, holding up an identical bottle. "And I gave one to Metamorpho, too. He said that Shift was gonna show up at his place tonight, so I figured I'd give him a little help."

Roy stared at her. "I hope you're not saying what I think you're saying."

She shrugged. "Like you haven't noticed the way Metamorpho looks at him?"

"I... don't even want even want to _think_ about that one." Even if he _had_ noticed the really kind of disturbing vibes between the two of them.

"I figure it's practically masturbation, anyway." Grace laughed and smacked Roy's ass before walking to the door. "Oh, and hey," she said, pausing with her hand on the doorknob. "Give Nightwing a nice hard fucking when he comes over tonight, would you? For me?"

"What makes you think he'll stop by?" Roy asked, realizing too late that what he _should_ have been denying was the other half of that statement.

"He will. And if you _really_ like me, you'll get it on videotape." Smirking, Grace left, swinging the bottle in question jauntily by the neck.

It's an hour and a half later and Dick hasn't shown up yet. Not that Roy really thought that he would, anyway. Why would he? Dick quit the team, after all. Just walked away like he was never really a part of it at all.

Roy sighs and gets a glass. Might as well be civilized while he's drinking himself into a coma.

Almost an hour later (not that he's been watching the clock or anything), Roy's world has an uncertain fuzzy glow to the edges. He hasn't been able to feel his teeth for a while, but he's definitely not drunk enough yet. His brain is still working.

He shouldn't be _surprised_ that Dick left the Outsiders. Dick does shit like that, all the goddamned time. People might look at the two of them and assume that Roy is the irresponsible one, but _he_ isn't the one who leaves. Dick, on the other hand, is starting to make a habit of it.

"Dammit," Roy mutters, glaring at his glass. It's empty again.

There's a knock at the door. He has to use the arm of the couch for balance when he stands up -- that really _is_ some strong shit. He's not really surprised to see Dick when he looks at the security monitor next to the door.

"Hey," Dick says, smiling a little as Roy opens the door. He looks tired, and there's a bruise showing at the edge of his shirt collar. Roy resists the urge to look closer and try to figure out if that's a hickey. He's had years of experience in acting like a normal guy who has absolutely no urge to jump his best friend's bones. Nothing queer going on _here_ , no sir.

"What's up?" Roy asks. He lets Dick in but isn't overly welcoming about it, standing by the door instead of leading the way to the couch. He doesn't have to be nice. Dick is the one who left.

"I, um -- I wanted to say goodbye." Dick sounds down. Roy isn't in the mood to cheer him up.

"Fine. Goodbye." Roy turns to open the door. Dick's hand covers his on the doorknob, squeezing his fingers almost painfully. "What?" he asks flatly.

"Stop being an asshole," Dick growls. Roy stares pointedly at his hand for a few seconds and then shakes it off, crossing his arms and glaring right back at him.

"I'm not the one who's being an asshole, here."

"Would you just -- would you _sit down_ and listen to me?" Dick holds his stare for several seconds. Roy is the first one to break.

"Fine." He refills his glass and sits down on the couch, sprawling in a corner and gesturing with the glass. "Have some spiced nectar. Grace swears it'll crisp off your chest hair. 'Course, I guess _you_ still don't have much of a problem with that..." Low blow, and a little juvenile, but it hits its mark. Dick flushes angrily, grabbing a glass from the kitchen and pouring himself a generous measure. He's always been sensitive about his relative lack of body hair, and Roy has never been gentle with his teasing on the subject. ( _Still waxing your legs, short pants?_ )

Dick sits down on the other end of the couch and takes a cautious sip of the spiced nectar, choking a bit as the burn goes down his throat. "Powerful stuff."

Roy takes a larger sip, rolling the liquor around on his tongue before swallowing it down smoothly. "Not bad," he says offhandedly. They're reverting to bratty teenagers again, just like they always do. Dick defiantly takes a full mouthful, wincing almost imperceptibly as he forces it down. Roy snickers silently. Dick still has no damn tolerance, despite the Bat's training. He's so completely screwed if he tries to match Roy drink-for-drink. You'd think the guy would have _learned_ that by now.

Dick turns the glass around in his hands, staring into the dark red liquid. "Listen, I know you're pissed because I quit the team."

"Give the man a prize." Roy sneers at him and pointedly takes another drink.

"Roy. I'm trying to explain it to you, so would you please _shut up_ for a minute?" Dick knocks back another mouthful.

"Fine."

"Fine." Dick sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Listen, with everything that's happened this year... It's just -- it's been a really bad year. And I can't do it anymore."

"So take a break and come back when you're recharged. We've all done that at some point. No need to quit the damn team." _Again_ , Roy doesn't say.

"No, you don't get it. I'm quitting the whole thing, all of it." Dick pauses and fiddles with his glass. Drains it and pours another. "There isn't going to be a Nightwing anymore. I'm done."

"Oh, bullshit."

"I'm serious."

"I don't fucking believe you. You're never going to quit. _I'd_ quit before you would, and we all know the only thing I'm good at is superheroing."

Dick scowls. "You're good at other things too. And that's not the _point_."

"No, the _point_ is that you've been doing this since before your _balls_ dropped, and you're certainly not gonna stop _now_."

"Watch me."

"Fine." They drink for a few minutes in silence, until Roy's curiosity gets the better of him. "What 'other things'?"

"Other things?" Dick blinks at him somewhat owlishly. "Oh, right. Other things. Well, I mean -- " He waves a hand in a way that seems to indicate breasts, and... other things. Roy squints. When he finally gets it, he's not sure if he's furious or about to start laughing.

"Fucking? My 'other talents' are _fucking?_ "

"No, not just _fucking_. I mean you're good at, y'know. Relationshippy things."

"'Relationshippy things.' Right." Roy snickers and shakes his head. "You have _noticed_ that my longest-running relationship was with a woman who _nuked a country_ , haven't you?"

"Grace," Dick points out.

"That's not really a _relationship_ , it's just... a thing." Roy shrugs. "We have sex -- fucking _fantastic_ sex -- but we see other people too. She's out with Anissa tonight, gonna see if she can corrupt little miss college girl."

Dick raises his eyebrows. "That's really a... wow. Nice mental image."

" _Yeah._ " Roy tops up both of their glasses. "Besides, it's not like you don't pull them in. I mean, damn, you dated Kory for years."

"Yeah, well..." Dick sighs. "Guess how many times I've slept with someone in the past year."

"Okay..." Roy thinks about it, offers, "More than a dozen but less than a hundred?"

"Once."

"Once? No way. Oh, come on, you must've gotten laid more than that. Wasn't there something with that spider chick? Tarantula?"

Dick shrugs uncomfortably, looks away, hiding his eyes. "I don't really... I don't count what happened with Tarantula that way. It wasn't -- I don't know _what_ it was, but it certainly wasn't sleeping with someone."

Roy frowns. He wants to ask what the hell Dick is talking about, but he's got that tension in his body like he might just disappear if Roy pushes too hard. Best to just let him be, for now.

Roy leans his head against the back of the couch and stares at the ceiling for a few minutes. He can't feel his toes anymore. Oh, well. Toes are overrated.

Rolling his head to the side, Roy looks over at Dick, taking in the bruised shadows under his eyes and the little lines of tension next to his mouth. That, Roy decides with the ponderous logic of the truly soused, is a man in desperate need of a blowjob.

"What?" Dick asks. Roy rewinds the last minute or so in his head and realizes that he said that thing about the blowjob out loud. Whoops.

"I'm serious, bro." Roy gives him his most charming grin. "You need to get laid."

Dick snorts. "What do you think me and Kory did all yesterday afternoon?"

" _That_ was your one?" Roy asks, reluctantly impressed. He takes a closer look at Dick's neck -- yep, it's a hickey. "So, if you and Kory were making with the naked Olympics yesterday, tell me why you still look like you've got a nuclear power rod shoved up your ass."

"It's just -- it's been a really bad year." Dick rubs his hands across his face, digging in with the heels of his hands.

"I still think a blowjob would help," Roy offers.

Dick laughs, sounding like it hurts. "Yeah, sure."

"All right then, since you asked me so nicely..." Roy slides off the couch, ends up on his knees on the living room floor. Shoves the coffee table out of the way. Everything's a little delayed-reaction, slow and kind of floaty. It's nice. He's gonna regret the hell out of this come tomorrow morning.

"You're kidding." Dick sounds _almost_ certain of that.

"Nope." Roy kneels in front of him, puts his hands on Dick's knees, and pushes them apart. Dick might not be sure about the idea yet, but his legs spread like they're on oiled hinges. Sliding his thumbs up along Dick's inseam, Roy gives him a challenging grin. "You gonna chicken out on me?"

Dick asks incredulously, "What, this is a _dare_ now?"

"If that makes you feel better about it, then yeah, sure," Roy shrugs. He leans in, bites at Dick's inner thigh, raking his teeth across the denim. Slides his thumbs up to the crease between thigh and groin, traces it lightly at first and then harder. Skims his hands up under the hem of Dick's tee-shirt, rubs his palms against the smooth, warm skin he finds there.

"Roy." Dick sounds a little unsteady. "You don't have to -- "

"Just helping a buddy out," Roy lies, smiling. Closes his hands around the angle of Dick's hips and tugs forward, coaxing him to scoot his ass closer to the edge of the cushion. Leans in again and mouths at thin, well-worn denim and the swell of hard flesh beneath. Fumbles with the button and zipper, revealing dark gray fabric molded over an impressive-looking erection. Licks him through the soft cotton, closing his teeth around the shaft and biting down softly, nibbling the length of him. Dick's breathing changes, gets deeper and faster. Roy hides a grin against his thigh -- there's no way Dick is backing out now.

He slides his fingers under the waistband of Dick's briefs, teasing at the head of his cock with his fingertips, but he's not patient enough to do that for long. Hooks his thumbs under the band and pulls. Licks the head as soon as it's visible, mouth watering at the sharp taste and the smell of musk. Peels the briefs down slowly, like opening the best Christmas present ever, and takes a moment to appreciate the view. Nice big cock, smooth-skinned and flaring at the head. Wonders if he has a chance in hell of convincing Dick to fuck him. Probably not -- hard to sell that convincingly as "two straight guys helping each other out." Not that his cover isn't getting pretty thin as it is.

Dick's hand is on the side of his face, urging him to look upwards. Roy traces his tongue around the edge of the head, deliberately delaying. He really hopes Dick doesn't want to _talk_ about this. Finally glances up under his eyelashes, deliberately giving him the look Grace describes as, "This weird mixture of 'I really want to fuck you' and 'I'm thinking about kicking the shit out of you.'"

"Roy..." Dick is watching him with bright blue eyes gone dark with sex. His mouth is slightly open, lower lip swollen from being chewed on, and two spots of color are flaring high on his cheekbones. Most of the time familiarity blinds Roy to how gorgeous Dick is, but the way he is right now -- Roy finds himself stunned that someone that beautiful could possibly want _him_. "Do you want me to..."

"Hey, just lie back and relax, bro. I gotcha." Turning his head, Roy licks the inside of Dick's wrist. Traces the lines of his palm and bites the mound at the base of his thumb. Follows his inner arm up to the elbow, bites the sensitive skin there and listens to Dick gasp.

He pushes Dick's tee-shirt up and goes after his nipples with tongue and teeth. Slides his hands back into Dick's pants and starts giving him a slow, teasing handjob. Wonders how long he can keep Dick making that sexy, breathy moaning noise at the back of his throat, how much teasing it would take to make him break and just _take_ what he wants. The thought of Dick holding his wrists down and fucking him through the bed -- _god_. Roy shudders and groans -- now he's just teasing _himself_.

Dick's hands are sliding over Roy's shoulders, rubbing at his short-cropped hair, stroking the back of his neck. Roy hums appreciatively and starts working his way down Dick's torso, tracing his abs with his tongue, stopping to bite his side right above his waist just to feel Dick shiver. Tugs at the waist of his jeans until Dick helpfully raises his hips and Roy can pull off his jeans entirely.

The tip of his cock is shining with pre-come. Roy licks it up, swirling his tongue around in circles, teasing the sensitive spot under the head with the tip of his tongue. Takes just the head in his mouth and sucks lightly, teasing again. Dick's hands slide restlessly across his buzzed hair, not pushing, just... coaxing. Roy grins smugly and takes a deep breath, preparing himself, then relaxes his jaw and goes down, all the way, not stopping until he can feel it bumping against the back of his throat.

"God!" Dick makes a broken noise and curls up over him, his fingers digging hard into the muscles of Roy's shoulders. Roy holds position, working his throat, until he absolutely has to breathe again. Slides a hand around the base and starts going down in earnest, his lips bumping against his fist on every downstroke.

Dick is surprisingly loud and responsive. Roy isn't really sure what he expected Dick to be like in bed, but the helpless moans and mutters of "oh god, oh yes" are pretty much everything he could have wished for. He likes hearing his partner respond, likes _knowing_ when what he's doing is working for the other person. And from what he can hear, _everything_ he's doing is working for Dick.

Roy slides his other hand down, gets his jeans open, takes himself in hand with a groan of relief. Dick's cock flexes when Roy groans around him, so he does it again, groaning on every downstroke, stroking himself off to the same rhythm. He can feel it start to swell in his mouth, growing even harder, Dicks' moans getting higher and more frantic. Roy takes a deep breath, slides down all the way again, lets Dick shove in hard, his whole body stiffening as he comes down Roy's throat with an inarticulate yell.

Roy sucks him through the aftershocks, then pulls off and rests his head on Dick's thigh, gasping for breath. He's close, so close, working himself with short hard strokes.

"Roy," Dick gasps, grabbing with sex-clumsy hands at his upper arms, tugging Roy up towards him. Roy lurches up onto the couch, lands kneeling, straddling Dick's lap. Dick curves one hand around the back of Roy's skull, pulling him in, kissing him desperately. Roy groans into his mouth, eyes squeezed shut, and comes hard, shaking and gasping Dick's name.

Roy collapses against Dick, sprawled on top of him, panting into his shoulder. He's kind of pretzeled up, and he's pretty sure it should be uncomfortable, but his spine appears to have been replaced by melted butter, and he just can't bring himself to care.

"Oh god," Dick moans.

"Uh-huh," Roy agrees.

Eventually, they manage to disentangle themselves and stretch out together on the couch. Roy would suggest moving to the bed, but he's not entirely sure he can walk. Dick mumbles something about getting cold. Roy manages to snag the afghan off the back of the couch and drape it mostly over them. He curls up around Dick, spooning him.

Rubs a hand against Dick's chest, right over his heart, and tells himself not to hope for anything.


End file.
